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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827202">In Tatters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictive_frolic/pseuds/fictive_frolic'>fictive_frolic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Multi, Poly, Smut, Stucky - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 13:00:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictive_frolic/pseuds/fictive_frolic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve miss having a little femininity in their lives. They go looking for a coffee and find their perfect girl instead</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>331</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky wasn't gonna lie. He was jealous of how easy this century was for Steve. For someone that was a fish out of water in the land of relics like big band music and being able to call every girl you met "sweetheart," he was surprisingly adept in the land of smartphones and self-checkouts.</p><p>Steve waded into this new century with gusto and Bucky? His favorite thing was that self-checkouts meant he didn't have to talk to as many people at the grocery store. That was nice. That was really nice. And there were more food options, and that was neat. The microwaves were cool. There were some good things. But as he leaned against the wall of the club, nursing a drink that wouldn't get him drunk and watching Steve try and carry on a conversation with Thor over all the women that wouldn't leave them alone; he couldn't help but be a little jealous. </p><p>It was a pain in the ass, trying to remember how to flirt with a girl. Girls in this time were different, well. Kinda. Girls had always been feral. Fierce. But now they got to burn brighter. Smart girls weren't doomed to spinsterhood and cats. Still. The music was loud. Too loud for talking and the skin and the sweat on the dancefloor were prohibitive. It felt like too much. Like he couldn't touch because the skin that was showing was something he shouldn't be seeing until at least a third date. It just isn't his scene. And he knows it isn't really Steve's either, but he's having a pretty good time right now with a pretty blonde who's got pretty red lips. So, deciding to quit while he's behind, Bucky slips into the night. </p><p>The cold February air reminds him of Russia, but it feels good against the heat in his face. It was hot in the Club. All those bodies smashed together. The smell of sweat and sexual frustration. It was Alien terrain. But even in this time, the Alleys in New York hadn't changed that much. The smell was the same. Trash, Asphalt, Iron. That never changed. Neither did his urge to go home. </p><p>To go be where he's comfortable. Where he can wear a t-shirt and sweats. Where he can have a snack and listen to a record. Or maybe watch Television for a minute. TV was another thing he enjoyed. It made good background noise while he did other things. So when he let himself into the apartment he shared with Steve, he switched it on. </p><p>It didn't matter what played as Bucky stripped himself out of his clothes and picked up something more comfortable. All that mattered was that he felt better. A lot better, away from the crush of bodies and stares. He feels better still when he grabs a snack. Oreos and a glass of milk. Something sweet is usually his go-to when he's feeling particularly out of place. And he waits. Steve always comes home eventually. Neither one of them is really looking for a girl right now. Fitting one into their lives has been frustrating. And it's been even more frustrating trying to find one that can love them both. Or at least doesn't mind them loving each other while one of them loves you. </p><p>When Steve walks into the house, Bucky looks towards the door, "It's not even midnight yet," he said yawning. </p><p>"Eh, I was afraid all the cabs were gonna turn into pumpkins if I stayed out too late," he said, throwing his jacket on the chair and sprawling on the couch, his head on Bucky's abs with a sigh.</p><p>"Have fun?" Bucky asked, rubbing the nape of his neck gently.</p><p>"Not really," he admitted, "but there was a girl that was interested in a date."</p><p>"If it was the little blonde, no thanks," Bucky said fondly.</p><p>"I turned her down," Steve said, yawning, "She mentioned having a true-crime podcast."</p><p>"What the fuck is a podcast?" Bucky asked.</p><p>"It's like a youtube video but... not. It's like a radio program."</p><p>Bucky nodded and sighed, "Still. I don't wanna be a project."</p><p>Steve nuzzled against Buckys stomach and smiled, "Don't worry, Buck. I won't let that happen. Not again. We're gonna find a girl eventually, and she's gonna be everything we want."</p><p>"That's the dream, Stevie," he answers, rubbing Steve's neck.</p><p>"Let's go to bed, huh?" Steve asked, "Things'll look brighter in the morning."</p><p>"You always say that," Bucky grouses.</p><p>"And I'm always right," Steve says, grinning, "Come on, Barnes. The sooner you let me put you to bed, the sooner I'll be able to buy your pancakes in the morning."</p><p>"That helps," Bucky said, letting Steve pull him into a sitting position.</p><p>"It always has," Steve said, stealing a kiss gently, looping an arm around Bucky's waist. </p><p>The brunette leans into the touch, and Steve frowns to himself. He knows Bucky is down. That he feels left out and gets lonely. He's been there. This time can be overwhelming. It's a constant influx of information and ads and new cultural mores. It never stops. And it takes some getting used to. Still. As he strips down to his boxers and a t-shirt, Bucky’s head on his chest, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. </p><p>He knows how badly Bucky misses having a softer touch in their lives. A feminine sweetness. Counterbalance to their existence of endless fighting and training. The blood and the gore. Someone who can weave their lives together so seamlessly that all the throw pillows and hair care products seem like they’ve been there forever. Steve tries to bring home flowers some times and do the rainy, sleepy Sundays. But the problem is that neither one of them does well with downtime. Not really. Not if they don’t need to slow down for someone else. It’s always been that way. Even when they had their first girl together. </p><p>Dates with just the two of them are adventures. Riding the new terrifying ride at Coney Island. Adrenaline inducing things. Things that left them both breathless and dizzy like the first frantic time together. </p><p>They wanted someone that brought more balance. Someone that reminded them of what they were fighting for. It was easy for them to get wrapped up in each other and lose sight of anything else. And he wants that for Bucky. Something to help him find a footing in his new routine. But, even Steve knows it’s going to be a tall order. </p><p>It was a tall order even before he went into the ice. But now, with their combined history, it was going to be worse. But there had to be someone. Someone they could fold into their lives and keep for their own. </p><p>“Go to sleep,” Bucky groused, nipping his shoulder.</p><p>“You first, Bucky,” Steve snorted, turning his head to brush a kiss against his hair.</p><p>“Can’t,” he answered, “I can feel you thinking.”</p><p>“Well quit it.”</p><p>“You first,” Bucky challenged, “What’cha thinking about.”</p><p>“A girl,” Steve answered stretching, “how much I miss having someone ticklish to cuddle.”</p><p>“That’s always nice,” Bucky said yawning, “You’re no fun now that I can’t just pick you up a throw you over my shoulder.”</p><p>“You still can,” Steve pointed out.</p><p>“Yeah,” Bucky pouted, “But you’re taller than me now and it’s not as fun.”</p><p>“Such a baby,” Steve teased.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky said nuzzling Steve’s neck, “But you’re stuck with me now.”</p><p>“Til the end of the line,” Steve said, “As long as you go the fuck to sleep.”</p><p>“You first pal,” Bucky said grumpily, “Your heartbeat gets louder when you’re thinking.”</p><p>“So lay on the other side, ya goon,” Steve chuckled.</p><p>“Or you could stop thinking about tits. Oh sorry. Ass. You like ass.”</p><p>“You know it,” Steve said closing his eyes.</p><p>“You’re gross and I’m telling Nat,” Bucky said.</p><p>“I hate to break it to you pal, but she likes ass too.”</p><p>“Ugh. Fucking degenerates the both of you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve walked next to Bucky, their hands laced together. It felt good. The sun was shining, and Spring was finally here. And this, right here, he reflected, squeezing Bucky’s hand, was one of his favorite things about this time. </p><p>Affection wasn’t limited to dark corners or their apartment. They could hold hands. They could steal a kiss sometimes. It was just lovely. Comfortable. As they walked into the coffee shop looking for a snack and to find Bucky a coffee drink he might like, what he didn’t expect was for the shop to be mostly empty. He glanced down at his watch and nodded. It was after the morning rush but before the afternoon rush. Later then, he’d thought. </p><p>But then, they’d gotten distracted earlier in the bathroom. And one thing had lead to another. And well. It had been a good morning. Good enough, at least that Bucky had let himself be dragged to another coffee shop. Another coffee shop, another try to find a drink he liked beyond Black coffee. Another chance to pander to Bucky’s sweet tooth. </p><p>Still, neither of them expect to find one. And neither of them expect it when a girl breezes through the door. </p><p>Her hair is bound up in a messy bun, fly aways escaping and falling to frame a heart-stoppingly pretty face. Below that, a series of fashion choices. Thick combat boots, a knee-length hunter green pleated skirt, a black and white flannel tied around her waist, and a black t-shirt bearing the word “Killjoys” in red script handwriting. Cute. Modern. But Cute, they decide with a glance at each other. But she didn’t seem terribly interested in talking. </p><p>“You’re late,” one of the baristas called over the counter.</p><p>“I know, but I had a script to finish and then an episode to edit,” she says, yawning, “I haven’t even been home yet.”</p><p>“Did you sleep at all?” she asked.</p><p>“No, so do me a favor? Like three shots in that hippie.”</p><p>“Oh my god.”</p><p>“What? If my heart blows out of my chest, the hospital is like right around the corner.”</p><p>“Y/n,” she scolds, sliding you your pastry and taking your bank card.</p><p>“Eh, ‘s not like I’m using it anyway. Maybe a drag queen can soak it in formaldehyde and made a nice headpiece.”</p><p>That makes Bucky snort. Loudly enough that you turn around and give him a wink, “See, he gets it!” you tell the girl.</p><p>“Still, this much caffeine has GOT to be a liability. Ya, cryptid,” she says, handing you the cup.</p><p>“Yeah? Well, until I figure out who I’ve gotta blow to not do retail anymore, espresso and hope are all I got,” you say, giving her a mock salute and turning to stroll out the door.</p><p>“Hey,” the girl yells right as you’re at the doorway.</p><p>You half- turn with a ‘what?’ gesture.</p><p>“Tell Donny I need him to order me a new Lagoon Blue. And an Indigo Blonde.”</p><p>You nod and lope out, coffee in hand, and Steve and Bucky look at each other. They liked that. You were fucking feral, but still sweet. What they didn’t like was hearing a kid behind the counter say, “Fuck, she can blow me if she wants. I need a sugar baby.”</p><p>“With what fucking money?” the blue-haired girl asked, “She’s not gonna blow you unless your dick is gold plated, and you ejaculate chocolate. Not for no tip money and a coffee.”</p><p>__________</p><p>Bucky and Steve have a new favorite coffee shop after that. At first, they come in, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Figure out your schedule. But they always seem to just miss you. It’s disheartening but, at least the coffee is good, and the kids behind the counter are funny. </p><p>Still. Even just the chance of seeing you is enough to keep them coming back. It keeps them wanting more.</p><p>So when you waltz through the door carrying with you the smell of a coming storm and for some inexplicable reason, a Chia Pet of Bob Ross, neither of them can breathe for a second. Your skirt, has sloths on in and your shirt is a white men’s button-down, A floppy sun hat shades your face. “Your usual, your highness?” A barista asked, grinning, clearly teasing you. </p><p>“I told you, Ivy. If drunk me does things, Sober me was not in the driver's seat and can’t be held accountable.”</p><p>“How’s your ankle?” she giggles.</p><p>“Not too bad after jumping off a third-story balcony,” you admit, putting a cellophane-wrapped cookie on the counter.</p><p>Behind you, Steve and Bucky trade bemused looks. Your night had probably been a lot more interesting than theirs.</p><p>“What happened to Tinder Boy?” she asked.</p><p>“Oh my god. Ive. He lived with his mother and had unironic rocket ship sheets. I am not trying to do some Bates Motel shit.”</p><p>“It couldn’t be that bad.”</p><p>You sigh, “No joke, she walked in on us making out because like. I was gonna give him the benefit of the doubt because I, too, am broke as shit. But like. She told us to hurry up so she could come back and tuck him in when he was done.”</p><p>“No,” she gasped.</p><p>“Yeah. So... pretty sure I’m lucky I left that house with both kidneys.”</p><p>You yawn, and she hands you a coffee with a sympathetic smile, “It was your first date since Pash, though.”</p><p>“And it was creepy enough that I’m not dating ever again. No joke. Just gonna adopt a herd of yappy little dogs and be single forever,” you tell her, taking a sip.</p><p>“We just have to find you someone really hot,” she pressed.</p><p>“Can you put some brains in there for me this time? Test drives are entertaining, but I’d like to be able to carry on a conversation without my uterus cringing in fear.”</p><p>“That’s fair,” she said, picking up the chia pet, “Is this mine?”</p><p>“Yeah,” you say, “You know. Since Joey and I broke your other one.”</p><p>Her face lights up, and your smile, “Thanks!” she says, not waiting for a reply before scurrying to the back to put it away. </p><p>You find an empty table in a patch of sunshine and sit down, watching people out the window. You like a slow start to your day. Some time to adjust to being awake. You’re blissfully oblivious to anything but the warmth of the cup in your hands. You don’t notice Steve and Bucky trying to work up the guts to come to talk to you. But when their bulky frames block out the sunshine that you’d been enjoying, you aren’t exactly disappointed.</p><p>When you look up, guarded but still smiling a little, Bucky feels his heart skip, and he knows Steve does too. You have pretty eyes and plump, juicy red lips. They have a soft spot for that kind of thing. “Yeah?” you ask, taking a sip of coffee.</p><p>“We couldn’t help overhearing about your last date,” Steve said, grinning.</p><p>“And do you want his number?” you counter mildly.</p><p>Bucky snorted, “No, but yours might be nice,” he said, “It’d be a damn shame if you didn’t give anyone else a chance.”</p><p>You cock your head and smile a little as you assess them, “So, you expect me to believe that Captain America and Bucky Barnes are interested in me?”</p><p>Steve takes a seat at your table, and Bucky follows suit, “Why not?”</p><p>“Because you don’t know anything about me,” you remind them, “I could be a psycho.”</p><p>“We know you’re funny.” Bucky said, “And I doubt you’re a psycho. Too many social skills.”</p><p>“Ted Bundy had social skills,” you counter.</p><p>When they look confused, you sigh, “Serial Killer,” you explain.</p><p>“Listen,” Steve said, smiling, “All we want is one date. A test drive if you will.”</p><p>When you smirk, Bucky gets a distinct impression that “test drive” doesn’t mean a date.</p><p>“A test drive, huh?” you say trying not to giggle. Your polite euphemism for a one-night stand sounds incredibly strange coming from Captain America. “We’ll see,” you stand up and pull a card from your bag easily, “Pick me up at 8?”</p><p>Bucky takes the card. It has your name and number on it. As well as an email. Apparently, it’s your card for freelance editing, writing, and photography. It was good to know you had gumption. You had to if you had enough money to live. </p><p>“Yeah?” Steve said, grinning.</p><p>“I’ve made worse choices on a Saturday night,” you tease waltzing back out of the shop with your coffee in hand.</p><p>“Steve?” Bucky said slowly.</p><p>“Yeah Buck?” he answered</p><p>“What are we gonna wear?”</p><p>There was a silence as the gears ground to a halt in Steve’s head and he sighed, “Fuck.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve and Bucky dressed with more care than they had for a while. They didn’t figure you for the type of girl that would care much, but they also figured that if they were gonna show a girl a nice time, they should probably look like they knew what they were doing.</p><p>Casual. Not like they want to put you on the nearest bed and fuck your brains out. Even though they did. Desperately. Not that they weren’t enough for each other. It wasn’t that. But there was a certain sweetness that came with having a girl in their bed. Someone they both protected.</p><p>It was an impulse that all the sensitivity training in the world couldn’t make them give up. The need to have a cute little dame to sleep between them at night. It felt better. More balanced. It was hard to explain to anyone but each other. Anyone but the right kind of girl. And they hoped you were exactly that kind of girl.</p><p>Steve carded his fingers through Bucky’s hair easily and smiled a little, “You need a haircut.”</p><p>“And you need to quit grooming me,” he pouted.</p><p>“Your ma would never forgive me, lettin’ you walk around looking shaggy,” he teased.</p><p>“Ma wasn’t gonna forgive you anyway after you got India ink on her best tablecloth,” he countered, mussing his hair again to his satisfaction.</p><p>Steve smiled a little and kissed his jaw, “You ready?”</p><p>“If you’ll quit groomin’ me long enough for us to get out the door,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.</p><p>“Just tryin’ to make sure you don’t scare the poor girl away.”</p><p>“Hey!” Bucky protested. But, there’s no real heat in it, and he lets Steve pull him out of the apartment.</p><p>As they walk down the street headed towards the address you had given them to pick you up at, nerves sang. They wanted to impress you. To be interesting to you. To make you love them. To convince you that they were worth the hassle.</p><p>“You ready?” Bucky asked, squeezing his hand.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steve answered, smiling at him, “This is gonna be fine.”</p><p>“She’s fine,” Bucky said, smirking, “Wonder how she cleans up?” He watched as Steve shook his head fondly and rang the bell, they didn’t have long to wait to find out.</p><p>You lope down the stairs, dressed casually, but still cute. Girl next door, sweet. With your hair tumbling down to the middle of your back and your face done up a little. A tank top and a long skirt. A pair of sandals and a cardigan slung over your arm.</p><p>They both feel their faces soften. They want you so badly they aren’t sure what to do when you bound out the door and hug them both hello. “Well, at the very least, I know you can be on time,” you tell them, teasing, “But what I still don’t get is why you’re interested in me.”</p><p>They smile, and Steve takes your jacket gently, offering you his arm as Bucky offers you his arm on the other side. “Because, doll,” Bucky said, smiling, “We think you’re pretty.”</p><p>“And we wanna know you,” Steve added, “Starting, we figured, with your favorite ice cream flavor.”</p><p>You laugh, “Well, I could definitely have no problem telling you that.”</p><p>You skip ahead of them slightly, “But you have to promise me something,” you tell them.</p><p>“What’s that?” Bucky asks, offering you a hand as you balance on a low wall so you can look them both in the face.</p><p>“This isn’t some weird unicorn hunting thing, is it?” you ask.</p><p>“Unicorn hunting?” They chorus, looking at each other and looking back at you.</p><p>You sigh, looking away for just a second, mentally assessing how much you can say, and they both feel a tiny jolt of pain. “Unicorn hunters is a term for a straight couple looking for a bi girl to spice up their relationship. And be exclusive to that couple without asking for anything in return, really. They don’t want another partner. They want a fuck toy… This isn’t some new version of that, is it?”</p><p>They both look appalled. Appalled on your behalf, really. The look on your face says this isn’t anecdotal. It happened, and it hurt.</p><p>“Girls who’d do that don’t exist, do they?” Steve said, hopping up to sit next to you on the wall.</p><p>“I mean. I did it, but… I wanted a relationship. So. It didn’t work out for them,” you tell them.</p><p>Bucky looks at Steve, not sure what to say but trusting his intuition to stay quiet and let Steve do it. Steve was always better with feelings.</p><p>“Sweetheart,” Steve said gently, “We’re not looking for just a toy. We want someone who can fit into our lives. A girl we can have to spoil and give us someone to come home to. We love each other. We always have. But we can love someone else, too, okay?”</p><p>You squeeze Bucky’s hand you’re holding and lean over to kiss Steve’s cheek gently. “Okay,” you answer, smiling a little, “That’s all I needed to know.”</p><p>“And that’s fair,” Bucky said, nodding, helping you off the wall and brushing a kiss against your knuckles, cheeks coloring a little when you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek too.</p><p>“Now,” Steve said, smiling as he caught Bucky’s eye, “About getting you some ice cream, Anywhere good on this block?”</p><p>“I know just the place,” you reassure them, “And they have my favorite flavor.”</p><p>“Just as long as they have strawberry,” Steve said, retaking your arm.</p><p>“And chocolate,” Bucky added, taking your other.</p><p>“I’m pretty sure they do… but if you steal a bite of mine, you’ll never look back.”</p><p>“That’s pretty bold talk to two men that have liked the same flavor for 100 odd years,” Bucky teased.</p><p>“Yeah,” you admit, “But cake batter.”</p><p>“Cake batter?” Steve asked, smiling at Bucky over your head. Stick a fork in him. He was done. He was smiling. Soft for you already, and he hadn’t even been with you an hour. It felt good, seeing Bucky looking a little like his old self. Something in his heart unclenched a little. And even if he didn’t already like you for yourself, he’d always like you for that. Maybe, Steve decided, even love you. And it took his breath away how fast that had happened. And one look at Bucky told him the other man felt the same way.</p><p>“Cake batter,” you answer, “It’s magic.”</p><p>“Magic, Steve,” Bucky added, teasing you gently.</p><p>“Hey,” you pout prettily, “Don’t knock it until you try it.”</p><p>“I dunno,” Steve teased, “I’m pretty set in my ways. Old man, you know.”</p><p>“You better get unset,” you tell him, grinning.</p><p>“Oh,” Bucky said, tilting your chin up gently. He was enjoying having someone smaller than him to loom over. It felt nice knowing he could throw you over his shoulder if he wanted.</p><p>“Yeah,” you say, scrunching your nose up at him, “It’s a brand new world… And I’m gonna show you around.”</p><p>“I think I like the sound of that Stevie,” Bucky said, glancing at Steve with a smirk.</p><p>Steve grinned and folded his arms, “And what makes you think we need it?”</p><p>“C’mon,” you snort, “Y’all didn’t even know about cake batter ice cream, I shudder to think what you’re missing out on.”</p><p>“Steve has a list,” Bucky said, winking.</p><p>“A list?” you ask, looking between them.</p><p>“Stuff people tell me to look up,” he said cheeks coloring.</p><p>“Oh my god. That’s adorable. I wanna see!”</p><p>“Well, order your ice cream, and I’ll show you,” he says, kissing your forehead gently. You’re cute. And Sweet. And the way you look up at him, all big eyes and a soft little smile makes his heart skip a beat. Some things about girls haven’t changed. And he’s glad that didn’t.</p><p>“Promise?” you ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet happily.</p><p>“Promise,” he answers, chucking you gently under the chin.</p><p>Steve and Bucky watch you order, amused. Cake batter ice cream with brownie pieces and pecans. Sweet, comforting, and decadent. It suited you. Bucky ordered his chocolate. With more chocolate. Chocolate pieces. And brownie. And hot fudge. Steve ordered his strawberry with whipped cream and graham crackers.  But, sitting at the table, after both stealing a bite of yours, they had to admit that you had the superior taste in ice cream.</p><p>But, in between bites as you go through Steve’s list, by turns amused and horrified that he didn’t know about things yet, it felt right. It felt like they’d known you for years the way you teased and cuddled. Eager to touch them both and give them attention. It felt like they’d found something they’d always been missing. And as they teased you and cuddled you gently, the way you leaned into them and basked in the attention told them that you felt the same way.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Welcome Back to Chainmail Crop tops, Today’s Table Top Adventure is brought to you by Skillshare-” Your voice is cheerful, and it reminds Bucky off the ad breaks for Radio dramas. He catches Steve’s eye and snorts. </p><p>They’d practically begged to watch you record something. Usually, you worked in your apartment. In the second bedroom that served as studio space for most of the podcasts and youtube series, you did when you weren’t writing or editing for someone else. Currently, there were 6 people crowded around a card table in varying degrees of pajamas. You were, probably, the most comfortable in a sloth onesie that had little felt claws that flopped over your fingers. </p><p>Steve and Bucky weren’t quite sure what they expected, but it certainly wasn’t this, and they were enjoying it immensely. Like they’d enjoyed everything else that had gone on around them in the last few weeks. You’d forced a friend to watch CATS the movie with you. You’d reviewed a classic film. You did part of a video series breaking down Marxist theory using, of all things, Barbie Movies. </p><p>It was insanity. Utter insanity. But it was fun. </p><p>You made people laugh. You made them laugh. And by the time taping wrapped on that podcast, their sides had hurt from laughing so hard. </p><p>“Ugh,” you groan, flopping facefirst on the couch, cheek resting on your arm as an arm and a leg dangle off the cushions. </p><p>“What’s the matter, doll?” Bucky asked, padding over and lifting the hood of your sloth outfit back so he could see your face. </p><p>“My head hurts,” you tell him. </p><p>Bucky frowned and kissed your temple, going to get a glass of water and some Tylenol. Headaches, Bucky had learned, were the shorthand you used for a lot off discomfort that made other people uncomfortable when you talked about it. Depression. Anxiety. Whatever another way, your brain could twist itself into knots. He didn’t doubt your head hurt. It was a small room, and things could get loud. But he doubted that was the only wrong thing. </p><p>Steve tilted his head and watched you struggle to sit upright again to drink the water and take the pills Bucky handed you, ‘You hungry?” he asked, just generally. Bucky was always hungry. With you, it was hit or miss. When you shrug, and Bucky nods, he smiles a little, “I’ll order pizza,” he said, “Y/N looks too cozy to make her put on clothes.”</p><p>When you smile a little and lean against Bucky’s side, Steve feels his heart flutter. You don’t even flinch when his metal arm tightens gently around you and shifts you closer. And he knows it makes Bucky feel good when you don’t. He’d been worried about it, how you’d react when he took his gloves off. Or didn’t wear sleeves. But you hadn’t flinched, you’d laced your fingers through his the way you had before and kissed his cheek. </p><p>“Definitely too cozy to go outside,” Bucky said, snuggling you closer, relishing the way you fussed at him for tickling you. </p><p>Steve chuckled, and half turned, scrolling through his phone to find the app he used to order pizza. He liked apps. They meant he didn’t have to talk on the phone. At least not as much. And while he waited, he looked at the pictures that lined the shelf. One caught his eye. It was a group picture. You and a bunch of other people dressed for some sort of event. One that required matching purple t-shirts. A pretty girl was kissing your cheek, and it doesn’t escape his notice that she’s wearing a ring on the third finger of her left hand.</p><p>“Hey Y/N,” he said, picking it up and half turning, “What’s this from?”</p><p>You turn your head, and Steve watches several emotions flit across your face for a second. “Oh-” you say, taking a deep breath, “That’s from when I took my Fiance to California... We went to Disney for her birthday.”</p><p>“Fiance?” Bucky asked, not accusatory, just curious. </p><p>“Yeah- Passion,” you answer. “I- yeah. That ended badly.” You don’t really know how to talk about that. Getting your diagnosis as Bipolar. The cheating. The lying when she said she was breaking up with you because you were ‘just too much’ while it was really because she already had a new girlfriend. You hadn’t handled it well. At all. </p><p>“How badly?” Steve asked, sensing a story.</p><p>“Wound up in a psych ward for a couple days after I stopped taking my meds, badly,” you tell them, not looking at either one of them.</p><p>They both winced reflexively. Not in disapproval but at the tone of your voice. Like you’re waiting for them to be mad at you. Steve puts the picture back on the shelf carefully and comes to sit on your other side. They both want to ask. They want to know how things had gotten that bad. They knew about your medication. That you took it, and... thanks to google, more or less what it was for. They’d asked what you took. And looked it up. Not because they were judging you, bot out of concern for your safety, really. It was things they didn’t know were medications. </p><p>“Sorry,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around your knees.</p><p>“What for?” Bucky laughed, “We got 100 years of history together... there’s no way we’ve told you everything. And it’s not like you could just casually bring up being hospitalized after a bad break up.” He kissed your head, and he and Steve wrap their arms around you gently. </p><p>“It’s true,” Steve said, kissing your jaw, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”</p><p>You sigh, “I just don’t know where to start.”</p><p>“Wherever you want,” Steve answered, “We’ll catch up. We’re old, not slow.”</p><p>You nod and tilt your head back to look up at the ceiling. “I guess it started when I had that first manic phase. Like. No impulse control. Straight lost my shit for a minute and wound up on the psych ward because Pash thought I was gonna kill myself or something.”</p><p>They stay close, listening and Bucky makes a soft sympathetic noise, “I didn’t know what was happening... Stuff had happened before but. Not like this. It was scary. And getting a diagnosis was kind of a relief... It told me that there really was something wrong. And that it could be managed. And it was fine. Until it wasn’t.”</p><p>You break off and take a deep breath, “Look. Long Story Short, Pash had been done with my shit for a while... and she was looking for an out. It didn’t take very long for her to find one. So she cheated on me for a while and waited until she could reasonably tell me “I just can’t handle this” and leave without looking like “the bad guy.” You know you’re leaving some details out. The fights and stuff. The people you’d caught her cheating with after your meds had tanked your sex drive for a little bit. The money she’d stolen from you and gaslighted you into believing you’d spent. They don’t need to know that. And you don’t really want to talk about it.</p><p>Steve and Bucky exchange looks over your head. Suddenly a lot of things made sense. They’d been letting you set the pace of the relationship. The number of dates, the amount of time they spent with you. How much intimacy there was. And they’d felt like you were holding back. Hesitating. They’d thought it was reticence about being a “unicorn” of sorts again. But the piece about your last relationship and being cheated on made things make a lot more sense. </p><p>“Sweetheart,” Steve says softly, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>You shrug, “I mean. It’s been a year. She and this other girl are happy I guess. And that’s cool.”</p><p>“You deserve to be happy,” Bucky said, tilting your chin up carefully, “You believe that, don’t you?”</p><p>“Sometimes,” you answer, smiling a little, “Mostly when I’m with you two dorks.”</p><p>“Dorks?” Steve said, mock offended. “Who you callin’ a dork, ya nerd?”</p><p>You shrug, “I mean. I did film studies and art history in college... I basically majored in ‘nerd’. So... I’d say I’m a pretty good judge of dorks.”</p><p>“You’re running off at the mouth again, Darlin’,” Bucky rumbled, kissing down your neck softly. </p><p>Steve smirks when your breath hitches and watches fondly. Bucky’s always had a gift for finding buttons to push and it’s honestly a joy for him to watch as he handily chases your train of thought out of your head. </p><p>“Let us take care of you, huh?” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. </p><p>You whimper in need and Steve grins, reaching for the buttons on your jammies, “So snuggly, Buck. So soft and cute.”</p><p>“She is,” he agrees, leaving your neck alone and letting Steve pull you against his chest. “But I gotta say Stevie,” he teased, grinning when your face heats, “getting all three of us in her little bed is gonna be a trick.”</p><p>“We’ll make it work,” Steve said, kissing you slowly, “We gotta. Because we gotta show our girl a good time.”</p><p>“How good a time?” you ask breathlessly.</p><p>“Baby,” Bucky drawls, throwing you over his shoulder, chuckling when you yelp in surprise, “You’re gonna see stars.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve and Bucky held you between them, careful to make sure you were warm enough now that the heat of passion had cooled a little, and you’d been pleasantly exhausted by their efforts to keep Bucky’s promise to make you see stars.</p><p>The full-size bed was a tight fit, but the mattress was soft, and your taste in bedding was comfortable. The closeness was nice too, they decided, smiling at each other. With you mostly sleeping on them and not the mattress, they could touch you and each other. </p><p>“Buck,” Steve whispered, tucking a soft, faux fur blanket around you tenderly.</p><p>“Yeah, Stevie?” Bucky answered, kissing Steve’s hand he was holding before kissing your head.</p><p>“Can we keep her?” he asked.</p><p>Bucky smiled tenderly and rubbed the back of your neck to soothe you back to sleep when you whimpered in your sleep, disturbed by the deep rumble of their voices. “I don’t think we have a choice,” he chuckled. “Girls that can handle both of us are a little hard to find.”</p><p>“Handle us?” Steve answered, “Baby, she was running the show.”</p><p>“And it was great,” Bucky murmured, a little in awe of you as you nuzzled into his chest. It really had been. The haze of heat and sweat. Hunger. Bucky knew, at least a little, that you had taken a risk being that open with them about your past. And the illness they knew you had but never really discussed with them. </p><p>“I think we love her,” Steve murmured, smiling as he tucked the both of you closer.</p><p>“I think you’re right,” Bucky answered softly.</p><p>____________</p><p>Things settle into a pattern quickly after that night. Steve and Bucky quickly learn the tells for when you’re not feeling your best. Sleeping a lot or not at all. Having no sex drive. Having no appetite or only wanting to eat one specific kind of ice cream that they only sell in your home town and nothing else. </p><p>It’s little things. A lot of little things. But it’s a simple adjustment. And one that they’re happy to learn. They want you to be comfortable. They want you to understand that they care about you. So, they flex where they need to flex and give you space and support as it’s necessary. And you return the favor, eager to please. Eager to love them. It’s satisfying, they decide as they tuck you into their lives.</p><p>It isn’t easy. </p><p>Missions take them away from you. Sometimes for long periods, leaving you to wait. And worry. Mostly alone, but for the friends that you worked with. </p><p>“Bunny,” Bucky murmured into the phone, “Are you feeling okay?” Steve stopped putting gear into a bag and looked that way, concerned. </p><p>“I’m fine,” you answer, taking off your glasses and pinching the bridge of your nose, “it’s just been a long day. I’m a little tired.”</p><p>“Did you take your medicine?” he asks, walking a little closer to Steve so he can hear. </p><p>“Yeah,” you answer, “I just... It’s been a long day. I guess I got used to sleeping on muscles instead of my bed.”</p><p>Bucky chuckles and hands Steve the phone, “Don’t worry Bunny,” he says, “We’ll be home with you before you know it. Natasha’s gettin’ sick of our shit. And we miss our girl.”</p><p>“Promise?” you ask softly. </p><p>“Promise,” they answer together, looking at each other. You really are tired. The kind of tired that isn’t just sleepless nights and long work hours. You need time and some attention. Probably, Steve figures, not even that much attention. Only some time to lay in bed with them and be cozy and loved while you’re all just together. </p><p>“Okay,” you answer softly. </p><p>“Bunny?” Steve asks, “You got a video up for us to watch on the way home?”</p><p>“I did this week’s musical chairs,” you answer, smiling a little. </p><p>“What’d you cover?” Bucky followed. He hated musicals, but he liked watching you review them. It was all the entertainment you got out of watching them without him having to actually watch it to understand it and sound smart at press events. </p><p>“Hello, Dolly,” you answer, “Figured we were about due for it, given the next big movie bubble is about to burst and probably bankrupt someone.”</p><p>“Spoilers!” Bucky scolded, “I don’t want the overview. I want to know everything.”</p><p>You give them a tired laugh, “My bad but... You don’t have any cultural context for it, yet so I’m not worried.”</p><p>“Fair point,” Bucky conceded, “Ya, nerd.”</p><p>“I had to be good at something, I guess,” you answer, cheeks heating. </p><p>“Bunny,” Steve said gently, catching Natasha’s eye through a door frame, “We gotta go, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” you murmur, “Be safe?”</p><p>“You know it,” Bucky answers.</p><p>“I love you,” you tell them quietly, before hanging up.</p><p>For a second, they’re both too stunned to move. It’s the first ‘I love you.’ However, quickly it was said they felt that it was real. Really real, and it scared you. A lot. Putting your heart on the line. And they made a mental note to bring you presents. Some of your favorite things. Anything they can do to reaffirm to you that they really do love you too.</p><p>“Aww,” Nat said, smiling a little, “You call her Bunny?”</p><p>“She’s soft,” Steve said, cheeks coloring.</p><p>“And she’s perpetually hopping,” Bucky added fondly.</p><p>“Literally?” Sam asked, smirking. </p><p>“No,” they snort together.</p><p>_________</p><p>Steve and Bucky let themselves into your apartment with their key and looked around. The apartment was dim. Not Dark, you’d left the light on above the stove and a lamp on in the living room. A habit you developed after tripping on Steve’s shoes coming home in the dark one too many times. </p><p>“Bunny?” Steve called, “You home?”</p><p>Silence greeted him, and he traded looks with Bucky, who was already headed back towards the bedroom as Steve went towards the office. “Clear,” Bucky called quietly headed towards the bathroom to look for you there. Steve’s fingers froze, hovering above the door handle. He didn’t know why your apartment being so quiet scared him so much, but it did. Your house was never this quiet. Not even when you weren’t here. </p><p>“Clear,” Bucky called again, turning back towards Steve.</p><p>Steve took a deep breath. He knew Bucky could hear his heart pounding because he could hear Bucky’s. But he opened the door. </p><p>As it crept open, he stepped inside slowly. “Oh, Bunny,” he sighed, the tension easing in his chest. You were asleep at your desk, drooling on a paper pad, with your headphones on and editing software opened. </p><p>Bucky peered over Steve’s shoulder and chuckled, tutting softly, “All tuckered out, and we haven’t even had a crack at her yet.”</p><p>Steve shook his head and sighed, walking into the room quietly and gently taking your headphones off. “Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, shaking your shoulder to wake you.</p><p>“Fuck!” You yelp, jerking bolt upright, paper stuck to your face and ink smeared places where you drooled on it. </p><p>“Easy, Bunny,” Bucky chuckled as you sat back in your chair, panting and trying to catch your breath. </p><p>“Hey,” Steve murmured, “sweetheart, you okay?” He pulls the paper off your face and smoothes hair back tenderly. </p><p>Bucky ducks into the bathroom to get a washcloth and hurries back to hear you murmuring that you’re fine. </p><p>“That heart rate doesn’t sound fine,” Bucky said gently, kneeling next to Steve to wipe the ink off your face. </p><p>“It was just a bad dream,” you answer, leaning into the touch. </p><p>“What were you dreaming about?” Steve asked.</p><p>“I really don’t wanna talk about it,” you answer, squeezing Steve’s hand. “I’m just happy you’re home.”</p><p>“Us too,” Bucky said, “We’ve been waiting a whole week to tell you we love you too.”</p><p>“Yeah, Bunny,” Steve scolded, tickling your side, “You hung up before we could say it back.”</p><p>“Really?” you ask, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.</p><p>“Are you kidding?” Bucky said teasing, kissing the cheek he just wiped off, “I’ve never seen someone drool and look so cute... Not even Steve.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Where’s your girl at?” Tony asked over the din at the party.</p><p>“On the road,” Steve answered, “She and a couple of her friends are doing live shows for the next two weeks.”</p><p>“Live shows?” Pepper asked, sipping her drink.</p><p>“Yeah,” Bucky said, “I guess it’s the podcast but… with an audience?” He didn’t really understand, but then, it didn’t really matter if he did or not. You were excited about it. And he and Steve had been following your adventures through airports and traffic jams with rap attention. </p><p>You could make getting lost funny. Hilarious actually. And they loved it. Even if they wished they were there.</p><p>They’d enjoyed seeing your progress through the tour. It made them happy, knowing you were doing well and doing something you loved doing. Every night when they talked to you on the phone, you were exhausted, but happy. The tour was doing well, and everything was going mostly according to plan. Aside from music that didn’t want to play for a show and some dice having gone missing.</p><p>“When’s her next show?” Tony asked. </p><p>“Tomorrow. They’re finishing the tour out in Chicago and heading home,” Steve said.</p><p>“Oh!” Pepper said, clapping, “We should go!”</p><p>“To the show?” Steve said.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony agreed, “It could be fun.”</p><p>“Oh! There are still some tickets!” Pepper said, glancing up from her phone.</p><p>“Nat, Barton, you want in?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Sure,” Natasha said, lining up her next shot, “I haven’t been to a show in a while.”</p><p>“Sure why not,” Clint added, “I like Chainmail Crop tops. They’re funny.”</p><p>“You listen to her podcasts?” Steve asked, smiling a little.</p><p>“And Bruce watches her movie reviews,” Clint said, nodding, “They’re pretty great.”</p><p>“It’s settled then,” Tony said, nodding, “We’ll all go to the show… Can we get Balcony seats?”</p><p>“Already on it,” Pepper said, smiling at him fondly.</p><p>“Figured you’d go for the front row center,” Bucky said, sipping his drink.</p><p>“Nah,” Tony said, “We all sit front row center, and no one is gonna give a shit about the girls doing the show.”</p><p>_______________</p><p>The Avengers snuck into the show. Hidden in a Balcony out of sight, careful to be dressed down and unobtrusive, no one really noticed them, and Steve and Bucky were thankful. As the lights dimmed and all of your trooped out on the stage, cleverly placed cameras showing the audience the top of the table and also your faces, cutting back and forth between the two angles. </p><p>Steve and Bucky knew that was your design, made to give the people in further seats a good view of your faces and everyone a picture of the tabletop. It was engaging. Light colors shifted, and atmospheric music flowed through speakers.</p><p>It was engaging. It was fun. And you were electric, charming. You drew them in with your personality and had the entire audience eating easily out of your hands. Raven Starshine, your character was the party rogue. She operated as Chaotic good, and her whole attitude was based around the philosophy “If I fucked my way into it, I’ll fuck my way out of it.” </p><p>“Wait, stop. I need a refill!” The crowd laughed, and you smiled, “Now’s the part of the night where I prove my job is better than yours.” More laughter as you pour more to drink into your cup with a wink.</p><p>“Aren’t you supposed to have a sippy cup?” Jack, the Party bard, asked.</p><p>“Shhhhh, don’t tell Roger,” you hiss.</p><p>“Don’t tell Roger what?” the Party leader asked, scowling.</p><p>“Shit, hey Kara, can I roll to bluff?”</p><p>“Roll for it,” Kara snorted, “But you better score high… You too, Jack.”</p><p>“But that’s my dump stat!”</p><p>“You’re the bard,” you gasp, “How is that your dump stat?”</p><p>“I panicked.”</p><p>“Fuck my life,” you groan, resting your head on the table.</p><p>___________</p><p>After the show and the Meet and Greet, you make your way up to your room, tired, and ready to get a shower and talk to your boys before you go to bed. It had been a long two weeks, and all you want is to go home and sleep in your own bed. Or rather, on your boys while they slept on your bed. </p><p>You keep your head down, trying to avoid notice. Trying to keep from being talked to by anyone, fans or otherwise. It’s not until you collide with a broad chest and hear a pair of soft, familiar laughs that you snap to attention. </p><p>“Hey, Bunny,” Steve laughs, kissing you, hello tenderly, “That was a great show.”</p><p>You hug them both, eagerly returning kisses and snuggling into their arms, thrilled to see them. All puppy enthusiasm and giggles. </p><p>“You had them eating out of your hand, baby,” Bucky agreed. Your lips taste like the sweet wine you’d been sipping while you say on the stage doing your show.  He wants another taste, and so he takes it gently while Steve gets the door open. </p><p>“I missed you,” you tell them.</p><p>They smiled, and Steve pulls you against him again while Bucky goes to start the shower for you. “Well,” Steve hums, “You let us take care of you, huh, Bunny-baby? We missed our girl while you were away.”</p><p>When Bucky comes back, shirtless and grinning, “We missed you an awful lot,” he agreed, coming to stand behind you and put his hands on Steve’s hips. “So I got the shower hot,” he said, “And now all we gotta do is get naked, so we can show you just how much.”</p><p>“Oh,” you murmur, biting your lip with a shiver.</p><p>“Oh,’ she says,” Bucky tutted teasingly, gently helping Steve tug your shirt over your head.</p><p> “C ‘ mon, Bunny,” Steve encouraged, “Let’s get you cleaned up and cozy. Then tomorrow we’ll take you home.”</p><p>“Home,” you murmur, smiling a little, “that sounds nice.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Bucky murmured, getting to work on your pants as Steve kisses eagerly down your throat.</p><p>“Yeah,” you sigh. You can’t think. All there is, is them. The heat pooling in your belly and the needy ache between your thighs. You find yourself borne along easily. Comfortable and safe in their arms, watching them love each other and you in the dimmed light of the shower stall.</p><p>“This is one way to end the tour with a bang,” you giggle, one leg wrapping around Steve’s waist as Bucky pops you on the backside.</p><p>“Jesus,” Steve snorted, “Buck, what are we gonna do with her?”</p><p>“Not sure Stevie,” he said, “But I know we’re not anywhere close to done.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ew, no. Why?” you groan, tossing your phone away in disgust.</p><p>“Bad fanfiction?” Steve asked.</p><p>“No. It was furry porn this time... Like. Why?”</p><p>“Why do people send you that shit?” Bucky asked, sipping his coffee. </p><p>You sigh, “Because. They either made it and are super proud of it or because they know it squicks me out, and they think my reactions are funny.”</p><p>Steve wrinkles his nose in distaste, “That’s. That’s not cool. Do they know you don’t like it?”</p><p>“Some of them do. And they think they’re gonna change my mind. Some of them are just new fans that haven’t heard it discussed anywhere.” You don’t mention that now that your relationship with two of the Avengers was public knowledge, you were getting sent a lot more weird porn than you had before. It had been bad enough when you were just Bisexual. But now that you’re also polyamorous... there were some people with an appalling misunderstanding of both those things. And it made you feel gross. </p><p>“Gross,” Bucky said, shaking his head. </p><p>“It can be. Some of it is sweet, really. People get really invested in our characters. And us.” </p><p>“I wonder if there’s fanfiction of us,” Steve mused.</p><p>“Steve?”</p><p>“Yeah, Bunny?” he answers, kissing your head.</p><p>“Do yourself a favor,” you tell him, “Don’t look.”</p><p>Bucky chuckles, “I take it you’re getting some of those now too?”</p><p>“All the time... and I gotta say. People really overestimate how flexible the two of you are... And how much stamina I have.”</p><p>Steve snorted and kissed the curve of your shoulder, “Your stamina is fine... Also, Just how flexible do they think we are?”</p><p>“I literally refuse to answer that and retraumatize myself before we hit the con circuit.”</p><p>“That’s fair,” Bucky said, wincing. Steve hadn’t seen it yet. But Bucky had. People. “Fans” seemed to have a weird sort of entitlement to you. You didn’t have a uniform. You looked like you. All the time. So in a crowd, people who watched your programming recognized you. Or your voice, if they knew you from your podcasts. They asked invasive questions. They pressed on you for spoilers or to do this or that. It irritated him. And more than once he’d happily played bodyguard to get a... less than polite man to move along when they were insistent that they be allowed to date you “Since you were into that”. Bucky assumed that “that” was he and Steve. And that the guys were thinking you were just easy. Ordinarily, he’d let you handle it. And step in if they put a hand on you. But sometimes. On bad days. Vulnerable days. When he and Steve had had to drag you out to start with. Bucky didn’t even wait. He found that a glare and the sheer volume of his muscle was enough to discourage much more than asking for an autograph. And he wasn’t going to lie. There were days he hated your job. </p><p>But he and Steve had already decided not to interfere. You loved the freedom. And it’s not as if they could just make you an Avenger. Or a SHIELD agent. You were, first and foremost, a fussy academic. Whip-smart, sure. Perceptive and Quick thinking, also right. But you were a comedian. A historian. A movie buff. Not an agent. And they liked that. They liked work being work and home being home. </p><p>You sigh and wiggle off the bed, “I need a shower if we’re going out today... I think my ears are still pink from redoing my hair.”</p><p>Steve and Bucky smile a little and watch you go. They’d offer to help. They’d love to help, honestly, but they know that when you want it, you’ll invite them. Or get endearingly needy. Or bratty. Or both. </p><p>And since you hadn’t, they didn’t press. You had boundaries. And you deserved to have them respected. The same way you gave them space when they needed it. And the same way they gave each other space. It had taken a lot of frustration on your part. Trying to want to be responsive when you just didn’t feel like it. When all you wanted was a cuddle and maybe if someone was willing a backrub. At first, they’d thought you’d gotten bored or something. But eventually, they managed to get you to talk about it. About how your illness and your medications had tweaked your sex drive. About how erratic it tended to be.</p><p>Today was apparently one of the days when it had bottomed out. </p><p>It was nonexistant today. And all you wanted was some attention. Maybe some ice cream. The boys nodded at each other. They could do that.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Bunny,” Bucky asked, chuckling, “What the fuck are you doing?”</p><p>“Making breakfast,” you answer simply, adding avocado to the blender.</p><p>“Ice cream isn’t breakfast,” Steve scolded, watching you add a scoop of yogurt.</p><p>“It isn’t ice cream. It’s a smoothie,” you pout. </p><p>“That’s still not breakfast,” Bucky said, kissing your cheek as he goes to make himself a cup of coffee. Something Steve nor Bucky could understand was how little you ate in the morning. Breakfast for them was eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, pancakes. An actual meal. Not a quick, something you could drink on your way out the door. </p><p>“What are you doing today?” Steve asked, “Got anything to film?”</p><p>“Mostly just editing work today,” you tell him, flipping the blender on and temporarily cutting off the conversation for a second. When the blender stops, Steve leans on the doorframe, watching you pour your drink into a travel cup. </p><p>“Well, if that’s all you’re doing,” Steve said, “How about I come and take you to lunch? Since Bucky’s got stuff to do today.”</p><p>“You don’t have anything to do?” you ask, looking up at him. </p><p>“Nothing but bother you,” Steve teased, kissing your nose. “I gotta make up for all the dates I missed somehow.”</p><p>You smile a little, and Bucky feels his chest unclench a little. You’d been quiet the last few days since they moved you in with them. It was, they thought, going to be the simplest way to make sure they saw more of you. Keeping you in their apartment instead of going back and forth to yours. And you’d been... reluctant, You liked your space. Your own apartment. And while Steve and Bucky had a beautiful apartment, and they’d set aside some space for you, it was weird being answerable to other people after being by yourself. It hadn’t helped that the boys had been busier than average. Missions have been keeping them away from you more often than normal. And that means that while they’re together, knowing they’re okay, they usually have no way to communicate that to you.</p><p>Steve watches you pack your bag for work and smiles a little, “Instead of going to get lunch, what if I come to work with you?” Steve offers. </p><p>“There’s not much to watch today,” you tell him, “We filmed all my stuff already.”</p><p>“So,” Steve snorted, “I can keep you company... Be an annoying lap dog. At least until we can get you a little dust mop with legs.”</p><p>That makes you smile a little, “I do miss having a dog.”</p><p>“Bunny,” Bucky says, sipping his coffee, “A Shih Tzu is not a dog.”</p><p>“Yes, they are,” you protest, “They bark.”</p><p>“So do foxes, and they’re not dogs,” Steve teases. </p><p>“Foxes scream,” you correct, taking a sip of your smoothie.</p><p>“That still doesn’t make a Shih Tzu a dog,” Bucky snorted. </p><p>“Says you,”  you say, crinkling your nose. But as you flounce out to go and get your shoes, Steve and Bucky trade looks, making a mental note to find you a Shih Tzu puppy sooner rather than later. Sure. You had friends. The other Avengers liked you and checked in on you from time to time. But, that wasn’t the same as having company in the house with you while you were alone. It would make them both feel better. Even if a Shih Tzu wouldn’t be much protection in an emergency. It was a decent compromise, they had to agree. A german Shepheard, like the boys, had wanted would need a lot more walks than a small dog. And at the very least, having a yappy little dog to bark at noises at the door would probably wake you up and give you time to leave if there was danger. It was better than nothing.</p><p>When you come back, shoes in hand and backpack slung over your shoulder by a strap, Steve smiles a little, “I still don’t understand why you aren’t gonna do things in the house anymore.”</p><p>You shrug, “I mean, we do have an office. And booths for recording. I just liked doing things in my apartment because like... It was comfy.”</p><p>“And here isn’t?” Steve asked.</p><p>“It’s not the same as my apartment,” you tell him, “It’s too hard to do audio here... All the fucking anti-spy gear shit in the walls makes it static-y, and I have to remaster it all, or it sounds like the fucking Watergate recordings.”</p><p>Bucky frowns but nods. He can understand the irritation. You like things how you like them. And he and Steve had kinda bulldozed your plans. And that was fair. You loved them. You loved them a lot. And you’d given up a lot already. But now? Now you had to scramble to try and explain things to your family... Something they hadn’t considered when they’d just... done things. </p><p>“Bunny,” Bucky said softly as you shove your feet into your shoes, “You okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine... I’m just tired. Half of us are canceled on twitter, and the other half is doing damage control and like... It’s just frustrating. It makes work not fun anymore.”</p><p>“So do something else?” Steve suggested. </p><p>“Yeah. Okay. Because jobs abound for degrees in Film and Art History,” you say, rolling your eyes.</p><p>“You used to work at a record store,” Bucky reminded.</p><p>“Yeah. And the reason I started doing this is that that didn’t pay my bills,” you point out.</p><p>“What do you want to do?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Stop talking about this,” you say, flipping your pack onto your back, “Neither one of you is my parent. Stop parenting me.”</p><p>When the door slams shut, both of them wince. They hadn’t realized until that second that you didn’t want them to fix it. Because they couldn’t fix it. You wanted to complain about work and be mad for a second without being made to feel like your contributions were “less” or like you shouldn’t be complaining. You didn’t want practical solutions because it wasn’t a practical problem. There was no such thing as a practical problem when it came to being “canceled” it was nonsensical. People getting mad at you for being Bi and dating two men. People yelling about you discussing a fact in a video... It was insanity. And sometimes you just wanted to be mad. </p><p>Because your public persona was bubbly. Vivacious. But right now? Right now you were depressed. And all you wanted to do was stay home and hide in your bed until it all went away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve let himself into your office and shut the door quietly. You were sitting sideways in your chair, cross-legged. And Steve is reminded of a joke someone made at your expense. Something about bi people being physically incapable of sitting straight. It makes him smile a little. </p><p>“Hey, Bunny,” he said, taking a seat at the other side of your desk.</p><p>“Hey,” you answer, glancing over at him and smiling a little. </p><p>When you glance away and go back to work, Steve takes a deep breath. “Bunny,” he says hesitantly.</p><p>“Yeah?” you answer, not glancing back.</p><p>“I’m sorry about this morning,” he murmured, “I guess- Bucky and I just. Well, sometimes, we forget. You don’t need us to fix things. Sometimes you need to just... complain for a minute.”</p><p>“You guys get to complain all the time,” you sigh, “Interns, shitty foreign policy, the wrong kind of coffee... whatever. And you can complain to me. Or each other. But the second I try to say anything, it’s just like... Aw, Bunny. You’re so cute with your little problem. Here. Let’s point out a completely fucking obvious solution.” You turn entirely around for a second. Just to have a second to compose your self and think. </p><p>Steve winces. He hadn’t realized that was how that sounded to you. But as he played back the conversation in his head. The one from this morning. He could hear it. And it made him feel like a dick. </p><p>“Baby,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“I don’t need you to be sorry, Steve,” you say, turning back around slowly to face him, “I need you and Bucky to stop fucking doing it.”</p><p>Steve nodded and reached across the desk to take your hands, squeezing them softly, “I promise... And we’ll talk to Bucky when we get home.”</p><p>“We can talk while I pack,” you tell him, taking your hands back.</p><p>“Where ya going, baby?” he asked softly. </p><p>You smile a little, “I guess I really was talking to myself the other day,” you snort. </p><p>“When?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Literally the day before yesterday,” you laugh, “I was literally walking through the house telling both of you about the trip I’m going on with my cousins.” You smile to cover how fucking much that stung. “Both of you at least twice told me, “That’s neat, Bunny. Or That’s fun. Or some fucking variation of it.”</p><p>Steve watches you turn back to your work, mentally kicking himself. He and Bucky had both been watching a movie. Decompressing a little bit. They’d heard you talking. You’d been chattering away, and yeah. They’d answered you but hell if he could remember it.</p><p>“So,” you sigh, “I’ve got a flight out day after tomorrow. We’ve gonna go spend a couple days running around in Ohio and his the Zoo and the Theme parks and stuff.”</p><p>Steve smiles a little, “That’ll be fun, Bunny.”</p><p>“Did you fucking hear me that time?” you ask archly, not turning around. </p><p>“I deserved that,” Steve snorted, “So, Are Bucky and I invited to this little shindig?”</p><p>“Absofuckinglutely not,” you laugh, “All cousins, no significant others... And they’re going to be grilling me and invasive for at least part of it. That will probably be easier to do if you two aren’t there.”</p><p>“So, shouldn’t we be there to make it harder?” Steve asked, confused.</p><p>“No, because if they go and act like assholes, then I can fill our current vacancy as ‘the cousin that doesn’t show up anymore,’” you tell him.</p><p>Steve gave you a look and sighed, “Y/N,” he said.</p><p>“Don’t scold me, Steven,” you caution, “I’ve been the black sheep all my life. That’s part of the reason I came all the way the hell out here instead of staying at home to marry the first boy who was ever nice to me and living a life of quiet desperation until I finally figure out I like girls in my 40′s and lose my mind a little when my kids go to college and or get knocked up and move out.”</p><p>“That’s- That sounds like a terrible way to live, Bunny,” he said softly.</p><p>“Yeah. And there isn’t an overabundance of family members that are thrilled that I was an underachiever who bucked the system and got out,” you tell him, still not looking up from your computer. “Not even my parents. Not really.”</p><p>“How long’s it been?” he asked.</p><p>“Since what?” you counter.</p><p>“Since you went home,” he clarified. </p><p>“I mean. I went home last year for Christmas. And I go to Ohio for this... Otherwise? I call home once a week and stay the hell out here where I don’t have to explain myself,” you tell him. </p><p>Steve hated that. It left a bad taste in his mouth. And it made him feel even worse knowing that you didn’t feel comfortable at the apartment either. Not to work. Not really even to live. And all because he and Bucky had managed to forget how hard it could be to be the lady in their life. There were a lot of lonely nights and a lot of uncertainty. Canceled dates. Just the sheer amount of history between him and Bucky. It could be intense. And... Isolating. He hated that you felt this adrift. </p><p>“Bunny,” he murmured.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>You don’t turn, and Steve sighs. He deserved this too after the last week. “Babydoll,” he tries, “Please look at me?”</p><p>Your turn away from the screen, “Yes?”</p><p>“Are you okay?” he asks. He doesn’t know how to ask if you’re depressed. If you have a medication appointment coming up. If you need some relief from carrying the weight of all the chaos in your head. </p><p>“I’m fine,” you answer, turning back to your computer. You have work to do. And you can talk and work but not if you’re not looking at your screen. And you know that if Steve gets a chance to press, he will. And you don’t want to explain how much you hate everything about this trip. </p><p>Steve doesn’t press. He lets it go. For now. And stands up slowly, going to make a phone call to Bucky. You’re not okay. Not at all, and he and Bucky have work to do before you go.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What’s up, Stevie?” Bucky said answering the phone. </p><p>“We gotta get out shit together, Buck,” he said quietly, “Did you know she had a trip coming up?”</p><p>“Trip? Trip for what?” Bucky asked.</p><p>Steve smiled a little. There was a little comfort in the fact that Bucky hadn’t been listening either. “She’s going with her cousins, They’re gonna go run around in Ohio for a few days.”</p><p>“She hates her cousins,” Bucky said after a few seconds of processing time. </p><p>“Hates is the wrong word, I think,” Steve sighed. “But yeah.”</p><p>“Are we going too?” Bucky asked. </p><p>“She doesn’t want us to,” Steve said softly, “Something about not feeling like she wants to explain herself.”</p><p>“People still have to do that?” Bucky asked, distaste coloring his tone.</p><p>“Evidently,” Steve snorted. </p><p>“Fucking Lame,” Bucky sighed. Steve smiled a little. He’d heard that specific thing in that specific tone come out of your mouth on several occasions. “So what are we gonna do, Stevie?”</p><p>“Well,” Steve said slowly, “Given the dressing down I got that basically amounted to ‘You’re not my parents and goddamn it sometimes I just wanna be mad for a second’ we had probably better stop treating her like a baby.”</p><p>“She is a baby,” Bucky said fondly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “But-but like we’ve been treating her. Babying her is fun. Treating her like a stupid kid is driving her nuts.”</p><p>“We don’t-” Bucky started.</p><p>“Buck,” Steve said quietly, “That’s what it feels like to her. She feels like she can’t really talk to us because we either don’t listen or don’t take her seriously... and we’re gonna lose her if we don’t pull it together quick.”</p><p>For a long minute, the two men are silent. Each retracing their missteps that morning when you left the apartment, hurt and irritated. And they hated it. They hated that they made you feel like anything less than important and loved. </p><p>“Steve,” Bucky said softly, “What are we gonna do?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” Steve answered, “But. I know she’s going to need us when she gets home.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, wincing. He hated listening to the conversations you had on the phone with your family. It was insanity. They just... well honestly they didn’t deserve you. Even from just hearing your end of the conversation, they were rude and hateful. Concerned about your money and less than concerned about you. Unless you were doing something they didn’t approve of. Then they cared a lot. An awful lot. Enough to lecture you until you’d say anything to get off the phone. It was like electronic water boarding. “Maybe now would be a great time to get that little dust mop?”</p><p>“I think that’s a good idea, Buck,” Steve said smiling a little. “It might... help. At least help keep her from bottoming out again completely.”</p><p>Bucky cringed at the thought, “We really don’t need that to happen again,” he said softly.</p><p>“No we don’t,” Steve agreed, “But, at least we know what to do now.”</p><p>“Kind of,” Bucky sighed, “It doesn’t always work.”</p><p>“Nothing always works,” Steve soothed, “We just gotta be there. And pay attention.”</p><p>“I’ll make a few calls today,” he said, “See if anyone has some little dust mop dogs like the one she had growing up.”</p><p>“And I’ll see if I can’t get... something set right before we get home tonight,” Steve said softly, “Bucky I hate it when she can’t even look at me.”</p><p>“I know,” Bucky answered. Whenever you were about to cry, whenever you had feelings you thought someone was gonna shout at you for having, you wouldn’t turn and look at them. You’d find anywhere else to look desperately clinging to any distraction to keep from being shouted at. “I love you, Steve. Give our girl a kiss for me?”</p><p>“I love you too, Bucky... and I’ll give her more than that if she’ll let me,” he said chuckling.</p><p>Bucky snorted and hung up the phone, trusting Steve to take care of you for a while. And hopefully make things feel a little... less terrible for you. </p><p>_________</p><p>Steve ducked back in the office and came to stand behind your chair, bending down to kiss your cheek, “That’s from Bucky,” he said softly before kissing your other cheek, “And this is from me for being an asshole. I’m sorry, bunny baby.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” you murmur, slowly starting to type again. </p><p>Steve turns your chair around to face him gently and kneels in front of you, “No,” he said softly, “It’s not okay. Bucky and I wouldn’t act like that with each other and we shouldn’t ever do that to you. Not even on accident.” He tilts your chin up gently to keep you from looking down at your hands and brushes a tear away with his thumb, “You’re our girl,” he said softly, “You shouldn’t ever feel like you’re not at home with us. You deserve better.”</p><p>When you start crying, taking your chin out of his hand and looking up to try and stop the flow of the tears, Steve stands up slowly, stopping when you flinch away from him. “Bunny baby,” he soothes, “You’re okay. Come’er, sweet girl.” He holds out his arms and scoops you up gently, taking your spot on your desk chair. “You go a head and cry,” he murmurs, “I promise. I won’t tell anyone you have feelings.”</p><p>He smiles a little when you huff a laugh against his shoulder and kisses your head. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs, tightening his arms around you when you start crying again. And for a little while there aren’t any words. Steve doesn’t know what to say. And he knows you don’t really need him to talk. You just have to be able to feel some feelings and let it out. It’s like a release valve. And Steve wonders just how long you’d been just quietly marinating in all the pain you felt. </p><p>He didn’t try to make it stop. Because making it stop, while it would stop breaking his heart, wouldn’t help you right now. You were hurting. Hurting and it wa because he and Bucky had forgotten for a second, forgotten that you needed them to treat like a partner. An equal partner in all of this. </p><p>“We love you so much,” Steve murmured, “So very much, Bunny Baby. And we’ll be here when you get home, okay?”</p><p>You rub your eyes on your sleeve and Steve tilts your chin up. Unphased by the snot or the red cheeks as he reaches over to grab a handkerchief to wipe your face. “You okay?” he asked, kissing your forehead. </p><p>“I don’t wanna do this, Steve,” you sigh, “I don’t wanna see those people. I don’t give a fuck about church. Or car dealerships. Or 401k’s or golf. Or the fucking union at the foundry. I don’t care that they think Gay people are ruining the fabric of society. I don’t want to hear about how much happier I’ll be with a house and 2.5 kids. I don’t want to hear about how nice boys don’t want me to be sleeping with anyone. Let alone both boys and girls. I don’t wanna hear about how no one will want me if I can’t cook... I just wanna be enough and I never am. It doesn’t matter what I do or where I go nothing is ever enough.”</p><p>Steve pulls you back against his chest, hard. Rocking you gently when you whimper and kissing your head, “Baby. Oh sweetheart. You’re enough. Okay? We’ve needed a girl, just like you for 70 years. You’re enough. You’re everything we didn’t know we needed. And those people? I’m so sorry they never loved you like you deserve, bunny. And I’m even more sorry that we let you feel like we didn’t love you. We’re gonna do better, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” you murmur, exhaling slowly. </p><p>“And we’ll be here when you get home... We’ll even take you to the gun range if you wanna go.”</p><p>That makes you snort, “You guys realize that for like 5 straight years I made the paper in my home town for getting the first deer of the season right? I can shoot.”</p><p>“I know,” Steve said, “And it’s really funny when you out shoot Bucky... I bet you could get him to bet against you again and get him to take us for ice cream when you win.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve opened the door of the bedroom slowly and smiled a little. Evidently he’d missed a party... Or at the very least, a very energetic date night while he was gone. It was cute. The two of you tangled around each other, Bucky’s arm thrown over you protectively and his face buried in your hair. </p><p>The bedding is rumpled, the sheet covering your body temptingly. That made him smile. Because he was tempted, sorely. The bed was big and soft. It looked warm. So, he let himself be tempted as he stripped down to his boxers. He wanted warmth. He wanted softness. And he wanted his Bunny and his Bucky. It was the best feeling, being tucked into that bed. </p><p>“Stevie?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes.</p><p>“The one and only,” he hums, leaning over to kiss you hello, “How’re you feeling, Bunny baby?” </p><p>“I’m okay,” you answer, yawning, “Bucky was having a rough day.”</p><p>Steve frowns but nods, “And now?”</p><p>“I had him pretty well distracted,” you answer, “Managed to get him to sleep.”</p><p>“Bunny,” he scolds gently, tucking a blanket around you and tucking himself in on Bucky’s other side. “You’re not a sex toy.”</p><p>“No,” you sigh, “But it is effective. And Bucky... He was struggling.”</p><p>Steve nuzzles the back on Bucky’s neck and sighs, “Still. He’s a big boy. You didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>“I know,” you soothe, “But he was feeling a little neglected. With you gone and me working on my book and stuff he wasn’t getting enough attention.”</p><p>“We’ll go out tomorrow,” Steve murmured softly, “Get him some chocolate. And maybe go see a movie.”</p><p>You nod and smudge a kiss against Bucky’s shoulder, “That’d be good. But... tomorrow is his day with you, remember?”</p><p>“Well,” Steve murmured, reaching over and popping you on the ass lovingly, “Something tells me he’ll be happy to have you with us.”</p><p>“Maybe,” you allow, “But he needs time with you without me.”</p><p>“I know,” Steve chuckled, “But you’re about to go on tour. We’ll have lots of time together. Especially since it’s almost charity season.”</p><p>“That’s true,” you sigh, “I swear. It’d be easier just to put a cot in my office.”</p><p>Bucky makes a soft sleepy sound and pulls you closer in protest, seemingly, and Steve smiles a little. Part of him wants to wake Bucky up and tell him hello properly but the rest of him knows that he needs sleep. And doesn’t want to waste all your hard work. Steve isn’t sure how you managed to have sex with him around your current lack of sex drive, but he appreciates it. Even if it makes him feel sick if he thinks about it too long. The way you used your body for their comfort at the expense of your own. He didn’t like that. And he knew that Bucky didn’t either. So he was willing to bet that you’d had to work pretty hard to get Bucky into bed. And he could appreciate your handiwork. Even if he wished they could get the idea that you HAD to do it out of your head. </p><p>They both felt a little gross about making love to you when you felt this way. Even if you were willing. They hated that it was, in your mind, an obligation instead of fun. But Steve didn’t blame Bucky for making love to you. If he was having a bad day and not feeling like himself, he was going  to take any comfort that was offered. And being between your thighs, they all knew, was a good way to keep him grounded. </p><p>Steve snuggled into the covers, happy to be home and closed his eyes slowly, letting the warmth push the tension out of his body. It all smelled so good. Like home. His Bunny and his Bucky were warm and safe in bed and it reminded him that everything was okay. That there was always something worth fighting for. </p><p>_________</p><p>In the morning, Steve and Bucky wake with no you in the bed with them and sigh. They aren’t sure exactly what pulled you from their arms but it makes them feel grumpy. They liked kissing you awake and tickling you into consciousness until you start pouting for coffee. And maybe some breakfast. Still, when they find you in your office, typing away with headphones on, still wrapped in the sheet off the bed, they can’t be too irritated.</p><p>Working around a depressive phase means that you have to do it when you get the chance. When you have the mental ability to focus. And there is some comfort in knowing that you’re still trying. That you haven’t completely bottomed out. And as they watch you work, keys clicking and the sounds of pop punk drifting out of your headphones, they wonder what this book is about. You never talk about it. Hell. It wasn’t until you lived with them they even knew you were writing one</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Bunny, you okay?” Bucky asked softly as you climbed into his lap.</p><p>You make a soft sound, halfway between a groan and a whine, and hide your face in his neck. Bucky smiled a little and set his game controller aside, resting his cheek on your head, “That good huh?”</p><p>“I don’t wanna do things anymore,” you tell him, “Too many things. Not enough brain cells.”</p><p>He tutted softly and hugged you a little closer, “I’m not surprised, with the way you’ve been going. Stevie and I are old men, Bunnybaby. One of us is gonna break a hip chasing after you.”</p><p>You huff a laugh and Bucky brushes a kiss against your head, “How about I put some brownies in the oven and pop open a bottle of wine while you go get your cozy jammies on. Then we’ll call Stevie and make him come home and we’ll not do anything. Just eat brownies and snuggle until you feel better.”</p><p>“That sounds nice,” you murmur softly. It’s true. You thrive on being petted and spoiled. Nothing feels better than feeling little and protected sometimes. </p><p>“Jammies it is then,” Bucky said, gently disentangling himself from you and putting you on your feet, “Why don’t you put on your sloth jammies. Those are always cozy… Makes you feel like a teddy bear.”</p><p>“And you like the buttons,” you say blushing.</p><p>“And I like the buttons,” he said smirking, “They’re just so tempting.”</p><p>“Bucky!”</p><p>“They are,” he rumbles, kissing you softly, “Especially when you look all sweet and soft… Just makes me want to see you coming for me Bunny. I love it when that pretty little  mouth says all those dirty things.” Bucky can hear your heart rate pick up a little and he smiles to himself. He knows you’ve been down and usually, he’s not a fan of using sex to get you out of a funk. But he and Steve miss you. A lot. It feels like ages since they’ve gotten to make love to you. There’s been no real interest. You want time with them, but having sex feels like a chore. And Bucky gets it. Sex, good sex, takes a certain ability to be vulnerable. And when you feel raw and exposed, it just doesn’t feel right. No matter how much you love who you’re with. But, Bucky also knows you’re starting to feel lonely. And like they don’t need you. So maybe. Just maybe, with some snuggles, a glass of wine, and a tummy full of warm brownies, they can put you in the right headspace. And your heart rate picking up was encouraging. You have a few very specific little buttons. One of them is dirty talk. Not shouted at you. But rumbled against your ear as someone holds you close. And nothing that’s degrading but something that makes you feel seen. And wanted. </p><p>Bucky’s hand slips down to the swell of your ass and squeezes lightly, making you shiver, “How long has it been since my bunnybaby’s had a good booty rub, hm? Stevie’s been slacking. I’ll have to tell him about that.” He slaps your bottom gently and turns you toward the bedroom, “Go on, baby,” he encourages, “Nice cozy jammies while I go make some brownies.”</p><p>“Then we’ll call Stevie?” you ask, looking back at him.</p><p>“Then we’ll call Stevie,” he says, kissing your nose, “But first I want you all soft and warm. It’s chilly out and I don’t want you getting sick.” </p><p>You nod and pad towards the bedroom, going to do as you’re told and Bucky exhales slowly. It’s a fine like to walk, indulging you in your need to be taken care of sometimes and triggering your desire to not be told what to do. But, he reflects, it’s not near as hard as getting Steve to realize he could like boys and girls. And it was getting easier to do. You needed them to fuss over you, not tell you how to live. And as he started the oven and got a brownie mix down, he really hoped this worked.</p><p>When you pad back out of the bedroom in your Sloth footie pajamas Bucky smiles tenderly, “That looks better already, Bunny,” he praises, “Do you feel better?”</p><p>You shake your head, biting your lip and he smiles a little, “Don’t worry, Bunnybaby,” he soothes,” if it were that easy you would have already done it, huh?” He slides the pan into the oven and holds out his arms, inviting you to come be carried, “Let’s go call Stevie, huh? Go tell him we want his ass home. Like now.” You nod and let him pick you up, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms and legs around him comfortably.</p><p>“There’s my good girl,” he praises, kissing your head “All nice and soft for me.” He rests his cheek against your hair as he walks and shifts your weight a little so he can sit without hurting your legs. “And all those pretty buttons, too, “ he rumbles, making you blush.</p><p>He sinks into the couch with a groan of comfort and picks up his phone, pulling up a facetime with Steve, “Hey Punk!” Bucky said, making sure Steve could see both of you as he rubbed your back gently. </p><p>“Hey Stevie,” you murmur, smiling a little. </p><p>Steve smiles softly and tuts, “What’s wrong Bunny?” he asked. </p><p>“It’s not a great day in my brain,” you answer. Bucky gives Steve a meaningful look over the top of your head where you can’t see and the Blonde sighs.</p><p>“I’m sorry Bunny,” he says gently. “Anything I can do?”</p><p>You look at Bucky and bite your lip. You don’t want to make anyone mad and you don’t want to be a pain in the ass and Bucky can see it all over your face. So he kisses your forehead and smirks at the camera, “You can come home and help us eat the brownies I just put in the oven… And maybe give Bunny a booty rub.”</p><p>Steve grins, “She does look nice and cozy,” he mused out loud, happy to see you smile a little. “And I do love brownies. Tell you what.” He waits for you to look up and smiles a little, “Bunnybaby, go pick us out a movie to watch and I’ll be home in 10 minutes, okay?”</p><p>“Promise?” you ask softly.</p><p>“Promise,” he said seriously. The tone of your voice and the doe-eyed look you gave him tore at him for a second. You were trying so hard to do better. You’d been working and doing so much for them. And now it was their turn to give you some support. To give you a safe place to feel whatever you had to feel.</p><p>“Okay,” you murmur, snuggling closer to Bucky for comfort. </p><p>“Okay,” Steve echoed, glad Bucky was there for you to hold on to.</p><p>Bucky hangs up the call and watches fondly as you sit cross legged in front of the bookcase of movies and survey it carefully. You don’t have it organized Alphabetically. You have it Arranged in Genres and then Alphabetically. And you have one shelf of things that you deem cultural landmarks that Steve and Bucky HAVE to watch in order to appropriately appreciate film. And if Bucky’s not mistaken, that’s the shelf you’re looking over. “Bunny,” Bucky said softly, “I’m gonna go get blankets. And some snacks. Will you be okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” you answer, selecting a case off the shelf and reaching for a remote.</p><p>“No Porn,” Bucky called padding into kitchen.</p><p>“Exploitation films are next month,” you answer.</p><p>Bucky snorts and half watches the clock wondering if Steve really will make it home in ten minutes. He knows you probably didn’t take him literally but still. He doesn’t have long to wait when Steve let’s himself in and kisses him hello, “How’s our girl?”</p><p>“Feeling a little raw today, I think,” Bucky answers, “Careful handling. I think.” </p><p>Steve smiles a little and nods, “And treats,” he said fondly, nodding towards the fruit and popcorn Bucky was putting together.</p><p>“And treats,” Bucky said nodding.</p><p>“Steve?” Your quiet voice makes them both turn and Steve hold his arms out for you to clamor into.</p><p>“There’s my best girl,” he said kissing your softly, “Do you have a movie picked out?”</p><p>You nod and nestle into his arms. it makes Steve thankful for the super soldier serum, being able to hold you like a kid, your limbs wrapped around him like needy vines. </p><p>“Well then let’s get you cozy, hm?” he hums, “Your nose is cold and your hands are freezing.”</p><p>Bucky frowns, “How’s your tummy feel, Bunny?”</p><p>You shrug and look away. “Anxious,” you answer after a long second.</p><p>Steve shifts your weight, “Do you know why?”</p><p>You shake your head and he kisses your hair, “Well. Let’s get you relaxed, okay? We need our Bunny in fighting shape… Keep us out of trouble.”</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Rogers, Jesus,” Sam said, “You almost kicked my head off.”</p><p>“Sorry,” he said, distracted, glancing to where Bucky was having a heated phone conversation. </p><p>Sam glanced between the two of them and quirked an eyebrow, “Trouble in paradise?”</p><p>Steve snorted, reluctantly, “Not like you think. Y/N got a death threat in the mail this morning.”</p><p>Sam blinked, “For what?”</p><p>“She made a documentary  with some other people. About the Prosperity Gospel or something. And its effects on popular culture. And politics.” Steve took a deep breath, “And some neo nazis got hold of it and well... I guess this is pretty common on the internet. Between that and her book... It’s been a week.”</p><p>“And Bucky is yelling at his phone because?”</p><p>Steve pulled a face and sighed, “Y/N isn’t taking this seriously. At all.”</p><p>“Would you?” Sam countered, looking amused. </p><p>“Yes,” Steve said scowling. </p><p>The other man folded his arms, “You? Really? Mister I’m gonna punch a Nazi at pride for harassing a group of drag queens? Mister I’m gonna send pictures of my boyfriend sharpening knives to people that send your girlfriend dick pics and rape threats? You’d take the word of some neo nazi pieces of shit seriously?”</p><p>“They know where she lives!” Steve said. </p><p>“And she lives with you. And she has phone numbers for no less than 6 Avengers,” Sam pointed out calmly. “She’s a woman. On the internet. Who talks about nerdy things. I guarantee you, people have threatened to kill her before.”</p><p>Steve scowled and growled softly. He didn’t like that either. You weren’t just a random person. You were his girl. Bucky’s girl. And he hated the idea that someone would threaten you. For having an opinion, no less. That was bullshit. </p><p>Sam made a soft sympathetic sound, “Are you going to make her stop?”</p><p>“I’d like to,” Steve admitted, “But when we tried that this morning, she pointed out to us that if she stops, the Nazis win. And she’s right. Really. Because they’re trying to make her stop.”</p><p>Sam nodded, “You should be proud,” he chuckled, “the need to piss Nazis off is alive and well.”</p><p>“You know,” Steve snorted, “She said almost that earlier and Bucky almost lost his mind.”</p><p>“I’m not surprised.”</p><p>Steve quirked an eyebrow and Sam grinned, “He has to deal with two people that have no regard for their personal safety now.”</p><p>“Fair,” Steve said, “Very fair.”</p><p>“So what are you going to do?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Let her live her life, I guess,” Steve sighed, “And keep an eye on her.”</p><p>Sam nodded and glanced back towards Bucky, “What’s he gonna do?”</p><p>“Hopefully nothing that’ll get him arrested.”</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You drop your bag on the chair and rub your aching shoulder, “Christ,” you groan, “Remind me why I hire people to do research who DON’T DO RESEARCH.”</p><p>“What are you researching?” Nat asked handing you a drink. </p><p>“A few things,” you sigh, taking the drink with a smile of thanks. “Some Old Hollywood Scandals and we’re doing a series on surrealism and film.”</p><p>Nat whistled, “That’s... That’s a lot.”</p><p>“Yeah,” you said, “But also no. I mean. This is all I really have to do this week as far as pre-production. And the Scandals are really just light reading and deciding what we can say and can’t say without being sued.”</p><p>“And surrealism is film is what?”</p><p>“A pain in my ass. But. We’ve got a lot of films coming up that we’re discussing with some heavy surrealist influences.”</p><p>“I thought you were starting the Horror videos,” Steve said around a bite of sandwich.</p><p>“We are,” you tell him, “But I want an excuse to run around a museum and talk about Dali and Frida Kahlo.”</p><p>Steve smiled a little, “Ranting about communism again?”</p><p>“Possibly,” you say cheerfully, “But Trotsky didn’t have much to do with Frida aside from fucking her and getting Diego pissed off so. We’ll see.”</p><p>“Lucille Ball?” Bucky said picking up a book and quirking his eyebrow.</p><p>“She was like... an OG boss babe.”</p><p>“And a communist,” Nat added.</p><p>“Pft. Lucille ball having to testify about that was like... The last gasp of McCarthyism.” </p><p>“What’s- wait,” Bucky and Steve traded looks and you smile a little, “Give me a couple days and I’ll sound off about it properly... Then we’ll talk about Star Trek.”</p><p>“Isn’t that what you’re calling the Scandal show, Sound Off?” Steve asked. </p><p>“Possibly,” you say nodding, “That’s the working title.” </p><p>“What is this taking the place of?” Bucky asked.</p><p>“Explaining Philosophy using Carebears,” you answer going to forage for something to eat. </p><p>“Carebears?” Nat asked quirking an eyebrow. </p><p>“I mean it’s basically an extended toy advertisement... It’s pretty easy to use the rudimentary plots and characters to use them to explain things,” you say shrugging, “And for some reason, people get jumpy when you talk about marxism and feminism... The bright colors help soften the blow.”</p><p>She snorted and watched you throw a bowl into the microwave.  and image around in the fridge some more muttering to yourself. </p><p>Steve and Bucky smile a little and shake their heads. They know, by now, an upswing when they see it. And it’s nice to see you being creative again instead of doing the things you’d been doing. It’s always nice to see you create new shows and new podcasts. It’s nice to see the pieces of your book falling steadily into place. Everything feels okay and they’re glad of the stability and the comfort that comes from having you at home for them. </p><p>“Did you eat today?” Bucky asked watching you pull out the bowls and add hot sauce and butter to your noodles. </p><p>“I had a box of gushers. And a slim Jim,” you say after a long moment. </p><p>“That’s not a meal,” Steve scolded, watching you take a bite of your dinner. </p><p>“No,” you snort, “But I can eat those things while running from thing to thing.”</p><p>Steve frowns at you and watches you slip Ruby small bites of chicken, “Y/N,” he tuts. </p><p>“What?” you ask innocently, “It’s not like I wasn’t busy.”</p><p>Steve lets the matter drop but makes a mental note to talk to you about it later. Usually eating less means more caffeine. And meal replacement shakes instead of eating. And he doesn’t like that. But there’s no much he can do about it with company watching</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve cuddled you closer and tutted softly, “Bunnybaby?” he murmured, “You comfortable?”</p><p>You nod and sighed, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“For what?” he asked softly, brushing hair out of your eyes.</p><p>“I don’t know how everything got so off the rails,” you murmur, laying your head on his shoulder.</p><p>“Pretty sure it started when your ma showed up,” Steve said gently.</p><p>“I’m sorry about that too,” you say wincing.</p><p>“Pretty sure we’re more worried about you than her,” Steve said, kissing your head, “You wanna tell me why she threw your meds out?” He doesn’t ask ‘And why you let her’ but he wants to.</p><p>“She thinks I don’t need them.”</p><p>“Don’t need- bunny you’re sick.” Steve feels his jaw clench and he forces himself to take a deep breath. You don’t like being held too tight. And you don’t like people being angry at you.</p><p>“She thinks I made it up,” you explain quietly, “That it’s an excuse. So I could drop out on med school.”</p><p>Steve frowns and takes a deep breath, “But-”</p><p>You look up at him and your overbright eyes make him stop. You’ve done a lot of crying the last few days and he doesn’t think he can handle more. And he knows Bucky can’t. And he shudders to think just how cold that car must be on the way to the airport.</p><p>“How are you feeling now?” Steve asked. He wants to know because he wants to make sure they can keep you safe. That they don’t need to take you to the hospital now that they’ve gotten a couple doses of your medication in.</p><p>“Wrung out,” you answer.</p><p>Steve nods. You look it. Pale with dark circles under your eyes. Without your meds to help keep you regulated, the emotional whiplash had been constant. The ups and downs. It was exhausting to watch and Steve can’t imagine what it’s like to live with. “When Bucky gets home, we’ll go to bed,” Steve said softly.</p><p>You make a soft unhappy sound, “Is he mad at me?”</p><p>“No,” Steve said firmly, “We’re not mad. Worried, yes. But not mad. Bunny, we’re just glad you’re safe.”</p><p>“He looked mad,” you whisper.</p><p>Steve chuckled, “Pretty sure that’s just his face when your ma’s around.”</p><p>You smile a little and Steve kisses your hair, “How are your feet? Do they hurt?”</p><p>“A little,” you murmur.</p><p>“You walked a really long way,” he said, “Do you remember where you were going?”</p><p>“No- I just. I just needed to go.”</p><p>Steve nodded, “Did you want to hurt yourself?”</p><p>“No,” you answer, wincing.</p><p>“Do you want to hurt yourself?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Steve tilted your chin up to look at your face and studies it carefully before nodding, “Good,” he murmured, “Good.”</p><p>When the door opens and Bucky lets it slam behind him, you whimper and Steve kisses your head, “Shh,” he soothes, “It’s okay.”</p><p>“Steve,” Bucky yells, “the next time that bitch needs taken to the airport-”</p><p>“Bucky,” Steve says sharply, hugging you closer when you tremble.</p><p>The brunette stops short at the couch and his jaw shuts with a snap, “Bunny I’m sorry,” he said, moving to kneel and look you in the face. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” You murmur.</p><p>“Don’t be sorry,” Steve and Bucky say together.</p><p>“Let’s get her to bed, Buck,” Steve said softly, “She needs sleep.”</p><p>And Bucky nods, the last of his anger draining out of him. You don’t need him to be angry. You need him to be there.</p>
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